


Discovery

by fulminator



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ALSO KINK, Actual plot, Feedism, Heith - Freeform, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Hunk cooks, Keith (Voltron) Needs a Hug, M/M, Overeating, Stuffing, but also literal, idk really, it's a metaphor for caring, keith eats, probably set season 1 or 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:47:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21601696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fulminator/pseuds/fulminator
Summary: The paladins take on a mission to a distant, toxic planet. *see tags
Relationships: Hunk/Keith (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> I've always planned to write more feedism stuff, but this one's for a request I got on another fic - belated but I hope you like feedee Keith! It's not as blatantly feeder-y as my other fics. Also it's not SK or KL, the Heith just sorta happened 🤦. Updates to come...the whole story will be short, but chapter 2 is partly written, and chapter 3 will round it out. Stay tuned~

“Yeah, I’ll try some.” 

Keith was startled by a sound clap to his shoulder. “Ooh, good luck, buddy…” Pidge was grimacing as she leaned over Keith’s shoulder to ogle Hunk’s latest culinary concoction. 

“Aw, c’mon, I spent three days...days? Cycles? Quintants? Whatever, I spent a long time perfecting these little guys…” 

“Gross, Hunk, go peddle your wares somewhere else.” Lance plugged his nose and waved his hand at the imaginary stink lines coming off the platter. Keith thought it smelled pretty good, actually. 

“Yeah, whatever. Just try it out. Look, they cooled into a little pocket with a hard shell, see? Plus they’re super dense in calories. They’ll be perfect for carrying in our packs on missions. I’ve got another batch I have to go check on, but let me know what you think!” And with that, he rushed back to the kitchen. 

They were all sitting around the table in the mess hall preparing for a recon mission in one of the most distant regions of the known universe. Allura and Shiro were huddled together at the far end of the table making plans, Coran was off doing who knows what with the engines, and Pidge and Lance were...leaving the table. Great. 

“Guys, we need to finish strategizing,” Keith called after them. Pidge hesitated, but Lance kept walking. 

“Nah, man, I got things to _do_. Catch ya later.” 

“We’ve been here for hours, I gotta clear my head. Ping our coms if anything exciting happens,” Pidge called out, jogging after Lance. 

Right. Keith turned back to his datapad, reading up for the mission. If they wanted to be unprepared, Keith supposed he couldn’t stop them. 

With Shiro and Allura’s voices in the background, Keith got back to cataloguing and analyzing data. He reached over and grabbed one of the pockets on the platter Hunk had brought in. After some debate, he decided it would work best to crack it on the table like an egg - he hoped they weren’t as runny as eggs. 

The shell was less brittle than he expected. It was kind of like a crunchy overcooked brownie shell, but savory instead of sweet. On the inside was something like meat and potatoes, but the consistency was a little off. 

They tasted amazing. Keith had never really gotten into food, not like other people he knew. He just ate to survive. But now he got it. It was like an explosion of flavor. 

The distraction was short-lived, though. He had a mission to plan. The others apparently didn’t care enough to help, so he’d have to do it himself. So much for working with a team like Shiro wanted. 

He grabbed another of the meat and potato things and typed a few notes on his pad. 

This would be an interesting mission. The planet was inhospitable; most life forms had been evacuated hundreds of years ago. It was rumored that in their retreat, they had left behind advanced weapons and ships. With Voltron, the paladins had no need for any ships at the moment, but there were plenty of defenseless star systems in the universe that could make use of those ships and weapons. Allura was confident that the Galra had left these supplies alone - the place was inhospitable, but it had an even stronger effect on the Galra. Without life support, Galra would probably die almost instantly. With life support, they had maybe an hour. And Keith had no idea how that might impact his half-Galra biology. Better to plan ahead. 

Pidge had already configured the lions to repel whatever toxic particles were saturating the area around the planet. Apparently some sort of gaseous cloud had engulfed most of the planet’s star system, drawn in by its gravitational pull, and had blocked the light the star entirely. That meant probably no plant life, unless it adapted to live off another energy source. Which meant probably no inhabitants. But they couldn’t be sure. Pidge’s long-range scanners could only pick up the cloud material, nothing beyond it. 

The beings that had evacuated the planet were near legendary in their own right. Said to be a highly intelligent race, they had valued intellect and cultural knowledge above all else. They had little interest in material goods, like their ships and weapons. When the cloud had arrived, the inhabitants had reportedly constructed a long-distance mega-ship and brought only the necessities. Then they had dropped off the map. By some accounts, they were still gliding through the universe undetected on their mega-ship. Others claimed to have been visited by said alien race, who nearly doubled the population of their planet, traded goods and services, and left just as mysteriously and as quickly as they had arrived. Others thought they’d long since been captured by the Galra. 

Keith, for his part, was suspicious of the circumstances. A hidden stock of advanced weapons and ships sounded too good to be true, whether they were shrouded in a toxic, planet-sized cloud or not. It wouldn’t surprise him if Pidge was the first to invent a cloak to repel the particles, but there was still the possibility that others had solved the problem before, too. There was also the possibility that something else lived there - something that mutated or adapted to living in the toxic cloud. 

However this mission turned out, though, Pidge was convinced they could at least search for abandoned factories and databases so they could catalogue the knowledge of this peaceful but advanced civilization. They needed all the intel they could get. 

Lost in his thoughts, Keith glanced up to find that Shiro and Allura had left - presumably to strategize on the bridge. Or maybe it was later than Keith thought. 

He reached to the platter on the table for another of the meat-and-potato pockets, but he came up empty. The tray, which had held something like a dozen fist-sized pockets, held only a few crumbs. 

Huh. He knew he’d been eating them while he worked, but he must have had more than he thought. 

A loud clanging sound from the kitchen caught Keith’s attention, and he turned to look just as Hunk, coughing and sputtering, backed out of the kitchen, waving at billowing smoke that followed him out the door. In one hand was another platter filled with treats that looked similar to the ones Keith had apparently polished off. 

“Hoo, man,” Hunk coughed. “That’s...hopefully the filters will take care of that before morning...” 

Keith frowned at the smoke still seeping around the door to the kitchen, wondering if he needed to extinguish some fires. Hunk seemed to be fairly calm about the whole thing, though. 

Seeming to catch his worried glance, Hunk reassured him - “Just caught my last batch on fire a little, no biggie. Those things really light up when you overcook them. They’re all in a bucket of water at the moment, but I managed to salvage the second batch. Hey, where is everyone?” 

Keith had no idea. 

“What time is it, even?” Hunk pressed on when Keith didn’t answer. Hunk was the kind of person who always filled up the silence. Which was something Keith usually hated in other people. With Hunk, it was a little less annoying. 

“Well hey, since you’re here, oh! Hey! The hot pockets are gone. Yeah, I’m calling them hot pockets. Not very original, but it fits. What’d everyone say about them?” 

Keith had no idea how to tell Hunk that in fact, he was solely responsible for demolishing the tray. 

Hunk filled the silence again. “Ah, well. I can ask them later. Here, try these. I think they turned out even better than the first batch.” 

Keith obligingly grabbed one of the “hot pockets” (which were both everything and nothing like Earth hot pockets - space ingredients were always a little strange - plus, these were a heck of a lot bigger). Hunk grabbed one as well, and they crunched through the outer shell and ate together. 

“So, catch me up. What have I missed?” Hunk asked. 

Keith meant to just pull out his datapad and show Hunk his notes, but Hunk ended up asking some pertinent questions that Keith had been wondering himself. Why do we trust the intel of rumors? How do we know the Galra haven’t just paid someone else to go in there and clear out all the weapons and ships? How do we know it’s not a trap? 

Before long, the second tray was clear, too, and Keith was starting to regret his mindless decision to eat so much. There was just something about the food that Hunk made - it was oddly enticing and left Keith mouth-wateringly hungry. If there’d been more on the tray, he probably would have kept going. 

His stomach chose that moment to let out a loud grumble of protest. It was a sound Keith usually associated with hunger - something that reminded him of long missions away from the castle, when they packed lightly and carried minimal sustenance. 

This time, though, the grumble was more of a pained churning of too much food all at once. 

“You still hungry? I have dessert in the cooling unit. Maybe the smoke’s cleared out by now…” 

Keith raised a hand in protest, but Hunk was already up and moving to the kitchen. “Wait until you try this, it’s just like caramel cheesecake...well, not really exactly like caramel cheesecake, more like…” His voice became muffled as the door swung shut behind him. A moment later, he emerged with...yeah, that looked like a cheesecake. 

“Wow,” Keith heard himself say, impressed despite his overfilled state. It even had what looked like caramel swirls on top, though it was a little shorter and wider than a typical cheesecake. 

“Yeah, it’s not quite the right consistency but it’s as close as I could get.” 

“Looks great,” Keith said. 

“Aw, thanks, man! You’re not usually the gushing type.” 

_I wasn’t gushing,_ Keith thought. Except for him, it kind of was, he realized. It was easy to be nice to Hunk. It was different from spending time with Shiro, who he could spar with and challenge to races and talk strategy with. Shiro understood him, but they only rarely talked about anything personal. There just wasn’t much to say. 

Hunk was holding out a fork, and Keith grimaced, shifting in his chair. The idea of eating more sounded like a terrible idea, and yet...the cake looked amazing, and Keith had always had a sweet tooth. 

He grabbed the fork and dug in. 

Between the two of them, they made it about halfway through the cake before calling it quits. 

“Oh, man, I’m stuffed.” Hunk leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. 

Keith understood the sentiment. He wasn’t sure he’d even be able to stand for a while. 

“I’ll just put this in the cooling unit, be right back.” 

Keith sat and tried to be interested in what was on his screen. His eyes were unfocused - too many hours on the datapad. And he was quickly realizing he might need to lay down. 

He was sitting back in his chair, eyes closed, when Hunk came back. 

“Whoa, buddy, you okay? You don’t usually look so...calm,” Hunk said. “Especially when you’re planning a mission.” 

Keith tried to sit up quickly, and he wasn’t able to hide the pained wince from the pain of constricting his midsection. He grunted involuntarily and hunched over, feeling too uncomfortable to sit upright like usual. 

“Okay, you’re seriously worrying me…”

“I’m fine, just - ” he swallowed to stifle a little pocket of air working its way up, and tensed when his stomach decided to growl loudly as a result. He cleared his throat to try to cover up the noise. “Just a little tired. I think I’ll go lay down.” 

As if cued by the word “tired,” Hunk yawned and stretched. “Yeah, I think I’m tired too. How late is it? I always lose track of time when I’m cooking stuff.” 

“...Dunno. Everyone left a while ago, haven’t seen them since.” 

“Well, we should probably get some rest. I’ve probably never told you this, but I appreciate your strict schedule, man. I usually just go to bed when you do or if I don’t see you I just assume it’s time. Hard to tell up here, you know? Out here? In space. I don’t know if that’s up or out…” 

Keith wasn’t really sure what to do with all that information, and he was pretty sure there was a compliment in there somewhere, but he was starting to really want to go lay down. He managed to power down the data pad and gripped the arms of his chair to heft himself up. It was slow going - it was almost like he could feel his middle adjusting to the change as he went, and it wasn’t a great feeling. It wasn’t a bad feeling, either, though. It was just different. 

Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure he could ever remember being _full_ in his whole life. There was probably a time when he was younger, but apart from sweets, nothing had ever really tasted good. Until Hunk’s “hot pockets,” that is. 

He took a deep breath, which was oddly shallow, actually, because his lungs apparently had less space and he was trying to suck in his stomach to make it less obvious, so he just ended up making a pained gasping noise. 

“Um...I know I asked this already, but you’re okay, right? I mean usually I don’t pry into people’s business but…” 

“I’m fine, Hunk,” Keith muttered under his breath. He picked up the data pad and started walking toward the door. He was both grateful and annoyed at the tight armor he was still wearing, which compressed him across the middle even when he was standing. 

Although his back was turned to Hunk, who was still standing beside the table, Keith could practically feel Hunk’s desire to keep asking the question. If it were anyone else, Keith would walk out of the room and never speak of it again. People didn’t need to pry into each other’s personal lives. It was just unnatural. But for some reason, he turned around. 

“What?” he prompted with a sigh. 

“Oh. Um, well, just, I noticed on the last mission a couple of days ago…” Hunk was actually tapping his fingers together, as if uncertain he should say what he was saying. “I noticed that you um...you fell off that ledge when the rock gave way...and you did a really cool spinny move at the bottom but you also kind of limped away after? And then you didn’t get treated for it? Anyway I just...wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

Keith remembered the moment. In truth, he had nearly sprained his ankle, and he’d had to elevate and ice it before he could take his boot off that night. But it had healed quickly, just like every other injury. 

“I didn’t think anyone noticed,” he conceded. 

“Oh. Sorry. I mean, it’s probably part of that whole tough guy routine you have going...nevermind. Forget I said anything. Sorry.” 

“No, it’s...it’s fine.” 

“Oh. Okay. So...I mean, are you okay then? Because when you got up just now…” 

Keith laughed, and almost immediately regretted it. “It’s not that. I’m fine. I am gonna go, though. Thanks for making food. It was...really good.” 

“Wow, two compliments from Keith in one night! Is this real? Did I fall asleep in the kitchen? Are you a clone?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head or anything.” Keith waved it off and slowly made his way to bed. 

As he was drifting off, he thought about Hunk’s words, thought about how he would have reacted if it had been anyone else. He’d basically admitted to Hunk that he had, indeed, injured himself. He hated feeling weak in front of other people. If he was being introspective, it was probably something he learned in the group homes growing up. Never show weakness. He’d been sent right to his first group home right after the fire, and he’d had some...emotional moments. Luckily, he’d been strong enough to fight back when the other kids beat him up for crying behind the swingset. 

Keith never admitted weakness. He especially never admitted weakness to Shiro, probably his only friend, who depended on him to be strong and have his back. It probably wasn’t healthy, but it was what Shiro needed from him. Or at least it was what he thought Shiro needed from him. And he wasn’t about to change now, not when Shiro had so much to deal with on his own. He didn’t need Keith’s problems on top of everything else. 

Hunk, though, seemed more stable. Not in the obvious way - he wasn’t even-keeled, he wasn’t always in the same mood. No, he was stable because he was always open and honest about how he was feeling, even when it made him look weak. That was what made him strong, though. 

Keith liked that about Hunk. Hunk being open and honest meant that Keith never had to worry about being a burden. If Hunk needed something, he would just ask for it. Keith never had to guess. It was freeing. Maybe it was freeing enough that he could start to be more open with Hunk, too. Hunk’s openness made him more trustworthy. 

And those meat and potato things...Keith could definitely eat more of those. Now that he was safely ensconced in bed, he finally gave into the urge to feel how big he’d gotten. He felt huge. He’d been sure Hunk was able to tell, surprised that Hunk had asked about his injury instead of his obviously massive midsection. 

It wasn’t actually that big, surprisingly. When he pressed, though, everything felt hard, swollen. Unbidden, he let out a puffy burp followed by a quiet hiccup. The hiccup stirred everything up, making him even more uncomfortable. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly around hiccups until he finally sat up slightly at the feeling of pressure rising, and a massive burp echoed through the quiet room. He was too relieved at the loss of pressure to worry about whether he’d woken anyone up, though. Now lulled by the warm, packed feeling in his belly, he drifted to sleep.


End file.
